


Sowed with Pomegranate Seeds

by Cinnamaldeide



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Beta Read, Hannibal in Hell, Hannibal is (was) a Cannibal, Hannibal is jealous, Kissing, M/M, Persephone!Alana, Previous Relationship, Smitten Hannibal Lecter, hades!will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamaldeide/pseuds/Cinnamaldeide
Summary: In an inconspicious corner of hell, hidden in the darkness, an impressive pomegranate tree languishes and rots.It reminds of a well-nurtured love and laments its own solitude, to which a wandering soul could put an abrupt end.Written for Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive’s #MythsOfBlood





	Sowed with Pomegranate Seeds

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to TheRaddestPanda (@bottomhanniballecter on Tumblr) for helping me out with the corrections and cheering me up along the way :) You might like to read [an introductory drabble](https://cinnamaldeide.tumblr.com/post/174155071133/) before beginning this reading, if you haven’t already (❀•౪•)

 

 

In his extensive studies and prolonged musing regarding an hypothetical afterlife, Hannibal frequently speculated about its governing rules and principles. In all fairness, he had reason to suspect it would appeal to his macabre tastes more than the material plane ever did.

Hannibal certainly didn’t expect to enter its solemn domain with a second-class ticket and an aggravating disillusion about his own final destination.

“You shall appear before Hades’ judgement despite your unfavourable situation,” his elegant, stoic instructor concisely informed Hannibal. Her monotonous, commanding tone discarded his inadequate credentials. “You shall not reveal from whom you received help in crossing this river.”

Landing on incorporeal feet, Hannibal wondered whether his unusual occurrence would in time prove itself propitious or unfortunate from his perspective. Morbid whinings, humid exhalations and harrowing screams welcomed his smooth docking on the opposite bank. His predator instinct suggested to follow them to their origin, progressing towards sharp rocks and fleeting lights.

 

 

As his lengthy, substantially aimless wandering reached its natural end in an ample clearing, Hannibal laid his intrigued eyes upon an obscure, curious creature, whose still shape closely resembled that of an impressive, yet largely putrescent, tree, which had seen better days.

Its bare branches were sinisterly laden with rotten fruits.

“You lost yourself, wandering soul?” Hostile words commanded Hannibal’s careless attention. “Your mortal inclination to run for your life might have disappeared the moment your heart stopped beating,” its threatening tone darkly guessed, “but I can help you recover it.”

Reluctant to interact with an undoubtedly ill-disposed interlocutor, Hannibal maintained his listless composure. “I doubt the reliability of my flight instinct. I barely acknowledged its existence before Thanatos descended upon me,” Hannibal remarked, scarcely intimidated. “Perhaps I shall confess it’s indifferent to your presence as well.”

Considering the inevitable nature for an encounter with the God of the underworld, Hannibal widely speculated on Hades’ fearsome appearance. Contrary to his whimsical godly peers, whom could pay an unexpected visit or not bother, Hannibal would eventually meet him personally. He imagined an excavated face, exposed viscera, and skeletal limbs. To his utter surprise, turning towards the source of his menaces, Hannibal found his looks agreeable instead.

Unassuming, unimposing. A handsome man in soft, crisp linens, with strong arms crossed over a muscular, glabrous chest. A very pleasing sight to behold before surrendering to death. “What’s to be done about that?”

 

 

Against Hannibal’s perfectly understandable expectations, Hades hadn’t displayed particular antagonism past their initial verbal confrontation. In contrast to his domesticated, monstrous pet, a multi-headed dog fiercely posed at his feet, Hades wasn’t particularly keen on wrathful outbursts or impatient tantrums. Stroking his tame companion’s black, dense fur with heartfelt fondness, the meek God regarded Hannibal’s immaterial spirit with a mixture of wonder and circumspection.

“Cerberus doesn’t react to your proximity as he would with fugitive inmates,” Hades said, puzzled, “I’m tempted to look for incongruities or curses hanging over your head among my brothers and sisters.”

Hannibal read a certain reticence at such prospect. Judging by his discourteous manner and unsympathetic observations, Hannibal could easily portray Hades as a relentless worker who didn’t often enjoy _living_ company, in accordance with his isolating condition. Confined in his obscure reign, distant from interactions that would distract him from his eternal burden to punish or appease desperate souls, Hades must have felt incredibly lonely.

“I doubt you’ll find me pending,” Hannibal confessed, seemingly apologetic for his lack of explanations, “but you’re of course welcome to spend your time as you see fit. I assume you have plenty at your disposal.” The transient hint of amusement on Hades’ lips pleased him. It encouraged Hannibal to intensify his efforts. “I lead a dignified, if admittedly uncommon, existence.”

To his animal’s disapproval, the caressing motion of its owner’s hand came to an hesitant interruption. “Would I find it of some interest?” his uncertain listener inquired, frowning with mild curiosity. “You would,” Hannibal promised, hopeful.

His solemn comment was received with a resigned sigh and an indolent scratch on stubbled cheeks. “Then you’d better call me Will, Hannibal. You’d want to be on a first-name basis before I’m finished digging in your past.”

 

 

Will was gifted with an intriguing, rather useful talent, in accord with his own occupation. Performing his particular capacity to shed light on human nature, Hannibal imagined, granted him access to the most intimate, recondite aspects of an individual’s essence.

Apparently, he could experience his targets’ anguish, affection, desire and frustrations, as if he himself were the recipient of such emotions. It had the arguably unfortunate consequence that Will couldn’t clearly distinguish his own anymore, but such a minor flaw wouldn’t deter Hannibal’s fascination with Will’s capacity to reverberate someone else’s self, especially considering his own astonishing lack of the very same ability.

Will required a certain closeness to access information, consequently, Hannibal would delight in his awkward, endearing embarrassment as Will briefly moistened his dry lips and averted his insightful eyes. “I guess I have my answers now,” he breathlessly uttered. Surprisingly, his warm exhalations collided with Hannibal’s supposedly intangible face, instead of remaining unperturbed. “And you my attention.”

Hannibal had been confident about Will’s positive, possibly even supportive reaction. Will seemed overcome with conflicting feelings, before composing himself.

“I also confirmed my suspicions on how you managed to cross the river, which wasn’t actually a difficult mystery to unravel,” Will remarked. With a displeased groan, he said, “Bedelia enjoys antagonizing me lately. She sees me as a wounded, vulnerable animal to crush without mercy after my brief liaison with a mere mortal.”

Hannibal could infer that Will wouldn’t long and suffer for a _mere_ mortal, allowing such raw regret to tinge his clear, blue eyes without having his authority questioned. “She couldn’t bear to remain in the darkness for as long as I do,” Will added, bitter.

Persephone’s admirable vicissitudes had been a compelling source of admiration and simultaneously spite for Hannibal, for whom the privilege of achieving immortality alongside death itself couldn’t be discarded. Hannibal couldn’t comprehend her motivations, only exploit her propitious retreat. “May I inquire about her fate?”

Flushing to his small ears, covered under a cascade of dishevelled curls, Will reluctantly replied, “Her preferences turned towards more exotic partners.”

 

 

To Will’s great dismay and consternation, Hannibal didn’t descend the profound depths of his reign as did the rest of similarly transitioning souls. His fluctuating essence wouldn’t trespass the mouth of hell, nor would his not quite restless spirit follow the simple instruction coming from that of its guardian. Hannibal subconsciously sought his distress, so genuinely exposed, as he enjoyed exploring nooks and crannies hidden on the edge of the underworld.

Will was expected to administer his infernal surroundings, uncaring for Hannibal’s boredom, yet he would find himself engaging in long conversations with his paradoxical companion after having overcome a certain reluctance. Hannibal would delight in intricate philosophical speeches, which Will would cheerfully dabble to deconstruct. Hannibal learned that deities called themselves with proper names. Will merely answered to _Hades_ for convenience, as were it a title or a rank. “I have been called many other ways,” he explained, “Anubi, Mot, whatever. I just need them to identify me as the end of their human life.”

In return, Hannibal described the functioning role of Gods and legends in a world dominated by apparent chaos and disorder. They were superior creatures who served as models for poor, erring mortals to emulate, Hannibal said, which elicited a good laugh from his listener.

In his leisure time in hell, Hannibal felt more comfortable in his transparent insubstantiality as he ever did in his carnal, earthly skin. He began acquiring consistency. As time passed, his volatile limbs floated always closer to the rocky soil, until they would effortlessly reach it and walk through the path sowed with pomegranate seeds. His hands would dispassionately run on Cerberus’s hispid fur, painfully dissatisfied to contempt themselves with such rustic hair when they longed to establish a physical connection with his owner’s instead. His fingertips would impatiently caress the unripe fruits on the pomegranate tree, which would gradually regain its verdant leaves.

 

 

Hannibal intimately detested associating himself with humankind and its weak traits, such as requiring oxygen or nourishment; the mere notion of dependency, he came to realize, repelled him. Apart from his cruel sadism, which admittedly many regarded as _inhuman_ , Hannibal had preferred to share his acute sensibility, often discarded or misunderstood by his supposed peers, with an otherworldly entity. Will curiously referred to his attitude as _an awful, colossal God complex_ , which puzzled him, considering the source.

Encountering Persephone in person, Hannibal acquired a taste for jealousy as well.

“You’re still with Margot,” Will inquired with an awkward, forced complacency in his soft tone, during her pleasure visit. “We have a baby,” she confirmed, content despite the slightly uncomfortable situation. She politely introduced herself as an old, dear friend. She behaved respectfully.

Her beautiful features, her feminine curves and her pleasant smile rendered it particularly difficult to resent her, Hannibal would admit, but furtive looks from Will led Hannibal to presume he was quite poorly pretending his indifference to Will’s previous lover.

“We parted on good terms,” Will confessed, at her departure. “She still visits me sometimes. Plays with Cerberus, ensure I’m well. She’s always been apprehensive.” His demure coyness, so inconveniently mollifying, betrayed a certain eagerness. “I’m fond of her spontaneous vitality, but it would suffocate in here. I had to let go of her, we wouldn’t be good for each other in the long term,” Will offered. Hannibal suspected her soul would corrupt itself after centuries and millennia of sufferance and darkness, instead of adapting itself, which Hannibal managed in a relatively short time.

He elected not to voice his impertinent thoughts. “A charming person, indeed,” Hannibal said with honesty, before conceding, “I never displayed jealous behaviours as a human. I find my possessiveness quite inappropriate.”

“I find it telling,” Will sentenced, blunt and direct. “Not particularly attractive perhaps, but not necessarily discouraging either.”

For an intense moment, Hannibal fought his instinct to corner Will against a conveniently flat surface. He briefly pondered whether a mere man would be allowed to even think about such a blasphemous scene. His ardent desire to find out compelled him towards Will with ravenous hands and purposeful lips, willing to face his punishment.

To his pleasure, Hannibal felt Will open under his ambitious touch. In a matter of seconds, his improper fingers surged to Will’s flanks, lifting his modest tunic, pushing against his warm chest with his hirsute, blessedly _tangible_ own. Will melted as Hannibal had hoped. His delicious sighs and delectable moans could easily be mistaken for wails of distress, as were Will reticent about losing control.

Cerberus certainly wasn’t familiar with his owner’s sounds of distress, judging by his snarls directed at Hannibal. Tempted to answer with an animalistic growl, Hannibal identified with the demon he’d been previously compared to. “Careful,” Will warned, attempting and failing to regain his composure. “Don’t make sudden moves when he’s upset.” He cleared his throat. “He likes to bite.”

Hannibal would admit a certain kinship with biting. “You might recall I did too.”

 

 

Will didn’t need to remember.  
Eventually, Hannibal would refresh his memory.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t pass an opportunity to write about Greek Mythology, not after being inspired by a post such as [this](https://you-got-a-gay-mail.tumblr.com/post/172153289300/hades-talking-about-cerberus-he-likes); so innocently promissing.  
> If you’d like, take a look at [its attached photoset](https://cinnamaldeide.tumblr.com/post/174172761029/) and consider liking or reblogging it (•౪•❀)


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